a/n: Hey all, I'm back with the next chapter. It's a bit late here, but I wanted to update on at least one of my stories before I go out of town tomorrow (again!). Please review (as usual lol), and enjoy.

Romen

Disclaimer: Unfamiliar; mine. Familiar; not mine.

Chapter 12

Tom

Elizabeth insisted that they take Will back to the servant's quarters. Once there, she immediately sought after Margaret, telling her the accident that caused Will to fall off of the horse, leaving out the part that they were bareback. She advised that he stay in bed for a while, so Elizabeth marched him up the stairs and he had remained there ever since without any company, not even Susan (despite the fact that he was perfectly fine, except that he was sore and bruised...).

When evening diminished into night, Will, driven by hunger, finally dared to traverse down the stairs. The building was quiet. In fact, for a moment he thought it was empty. He wandered into the entrance, yawning and going over to pick at a loaf of bread sitting on the table.

"Naughty, naughty, Will."

Susan emerged from the corner, her bonnet hanging from her arm by its straps. "You wouldn't want to spoil your supper."

Will ignored her, pulling off a chunk and popping it into his mouth. "Do you have to comment on everything I do?" he asked when he had finished chewing.

She snorted. "Please. I was just trying to keep you away from it. It's not yours."

"Oh really? Then who does this belong to?" He rolled his eyes. For some reason he felt extremely irritable.

At that moment the door opened. A boy that Will had never seen before stood in the frame. He had sandy blond hair and ruddy tanned skin, his nose splattered with freckles. He frowned.

"That's mine, you know," he said wryly, gesturing toward the bread with a nod of his head. He shrugged, shutting the door behind him and sitting down on a chair, running one dirty hand over his face. "I suppose it doesn't matter anyway. Have as much as you like."

"Oh, sorry," Will apologized, wrapping the bread in the handkerchief it came in. "I didn't know it was yours."

"Like I said, don't worry about it." He held out his hand. "My name's Tom. I don't think I've met you before."

Will shook it. "Will Turner. I haven't been here for very long."

"Ugh, Tom, wash your hands." Susan tossed him a wet rag. "If you get dirt all over the table everyone is going to insinuate that it was me."

Tom took it from her, tilting his head back thoughtfully. "So, Will, what do you do around here? I help my father garden sometimes. He's getting up there, if you know what I mean."

Will leaned his elbows against the table. "I do simple chores, basically."

"Unfortunately it's with me," Susan interjected, making a face.

Tom patted him on the arm. "Poor you."

Susan punched him in the shoulder in a most un-playful way. "Watch what you're saying."

He grimaced. "Er...That's not what I meant. Anyway, Susan, thanks for making the bread."

"You're not welcome. I slaved away over the stove for hours to make that blasted thing. You better eat it and not let it go to waste."

Tom poked at it. "That depends on whether it's edible or not."

Will couldn't help but feel a small tug of curiosity. "Why did she have to make it for you?"

"She lost a bet," Tom replied, leaning back in his chair. "She didn't have enough money to pay me back, so I proposed that she do this instead."

The sound of the door opening drew their attention. Elizabeth entered, a tray in her hands.

"Will!" she exclaimed, setting the tray on the table and hurrying over to him. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, Miss Swann," he answered truthfully as she shoved him down onto a chair.

"Here, I brought you something to eat." She took the lid off of the tray to reveal a glass of milk, a slice of ham, a dinner roll, and a small bowl of soup, all of which was still warm, with a square of butter. There was also a square of her cake and an apple. "I know it isn't much," she continued, wringing her hands fretfully, "but it was the least I could do after what happened today."

He looked down at it all sheepishly. "Thank you, Miss Swann, but really, I can't accept all of this..."

"No, Will, I'm serious. It truly is the least that I can do."

He didn't need to be told twice. He was starving; the only meal he had eaten that day had been a light breakfast. He made his way through the ham, drank the soup and the milk, and ate the roll along with the butter before beginning on the cake.

"This is very good, Miss Swann," he muttered between a bite.

She smiled. "Thank you, and thanks for trying it a few days ago."

"Really, it was no trouble at all." He swallowed, pausing. "Has James tried it yet?" His eyes searched her face for a sign of reaction.

She brightened visibly at the mention of his name, her cheeks turning rosy. "Yes, he has. He said it was superb! I hope he was telling the truth, but I really think he was, because he went back for seconds, and he said it in German, which means he must have liked it. Don't you think he really liked it?"

"Mmm-hmm." He jabbed at the cake sharply.

"However he did say that he preferred chocolate," she continued, "and would have rather had that instead, but that this was good as well. He asked me to bake one for him when he leaves, so he can take it back home and show the chefs. I do hope he wasn't humoring me."

"Well thank you very much, Miss Swann," he interrupted hastily, setting down his fork after he had devoured the last crumb. "It was all very delicious. You didn't have to go through much trouble to bring it to me, did you?"

She shook her head. "No, none at all. I suppose that the hardest thing to get was the soup, but I just took James's, since he hadn't eaten his."

Will glanced down at the empty bowl contemptibly, wishing he hadn't drank any.

"Anyway, I should be going. Please take care, Will." She stood still for a moment, as if hesitating, before wrapping her arms around his shoulders, giving him a squeeze and hurrying out the door.

Will sat for a second before lying his head down on the table and heaving a weary sigh.

Tom grinned. "I knew it."

Will's eyes roved around to his face. "Knew what?"

He crossed his arms. "You're jealous."

"I'm what?"

"You're jealous!" Tom insisted, his grin growing even wider. "I knew it ever since I saw you at the stables..."

Will rubbed his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about. Wait, you saw me at the stables?"

Tom waved it away impatiently. "Yes, I was sweeping up in the back when they brought the horses out. I caught a few glimpses of you all. Still, I didn't know that you were this jealous."

"Jealous of who?"

"Of James!"

Susan elbowed Will sharply in the side as she sat down in the chair next to him. "Oops, sorry. Do you mind if I have the apple?"

"Take it," Will grunted, yawning. He turned his attention back to Tom. "I am not jealous of James."

Tom laughed. "Yes, you are!"

"No, I'm not." He pushed himself into a sitting position, massaging his temples. "I don't have any reason to be jealous of him."

Tom snorted. "Really? The fact that he's filthy rich might be one reason, or that he speaks fifteen languages..."

"He only speaks four," Will snapped, shooting him a glare.

"Aha! See what I mean?" Tom cried, standing. "You're jealous because Elizabeth fancies him instead of you!"

Will flushed. "Stop being ridiculous..."

Tom gave him a pat on the back. "Don't worry. James is only going to be here for a few more days, and when he leaves, Elizabeth will have forgotten all about him."

'Whatever,' Will thought to himself in bed that night, hitting his pillow a bit harder than he meant to as he attempted to buff it. 'He makes it sound like I'm smitten for Elizabeth or something. That can't be true. It isn't true.'

James was just annoying.

TBC...

a/n: Sorry, I didn't get to respond to reviews, but please keep them up! I appreciate every single one of them, and enjoy reading them!

Romen